


Honeymoon at Moncale Bay

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [164]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-02
Updated: 2010-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:24:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4312149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pure bliss-out for our lads.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honeymoon at Moncale Bay

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol  
> Mali Wane for posting  
> My former betas: Alex, Ula, and Padawan Sue
> 
> Please read Wedding Present first, for continuity.

Ian was in his element.  
  
He and Quinn played in the waters of Moncale Bay on Sunday afternoon, the day after Bant and Ethan's wedding. They were staying at the Cala del Mar resort until Monday morning, when they had to head back to work.  
  
Ian was pleasantly surprised by the warmth and tranquility of the sea, after their experience in Ogunquit. There, the rocky coast and cold water made swimming a challenge. Although this was also a New England beach, it was closer to Charlotte Amalie in feel. Of course, Connecticut was a lot farther south than Maine, and this was the warmest year on record.  
  
Floating on his back, Ian lived in the moment, just as Quinn often reminded him to do. Sun dazzled his eyes; water droplets slid cool over his face and chest; salt teased his lips. He kicked his legs, enjoying the pleasant resistance of wavelets playing about his thighs.  
  
Quinn gazed at his husband in delight as he stood by his side, letting the ocean gently sway him. He'd achieved an almost meditative state, drifting in the gentle currents, until Ian's kicking had splashed water on his chest. He had to admit he preferred the state he was in right now -- rapt appreciation of his laddie.  
  
Ian was spread out on a cushion of water, thoroughly at his ease. His strong, muscular legs teased Quinn by rhythmically appearing and disappearing in the waves as he kicked up foam. His blue-green eyes were more sparkling than the ocean surrounding him. His water-crystaled lips grinned at Quinn, letting him know just what he'd be doing with his lad after their swim.  
  
Quinn smiled back, into eyes the changeable colors of the sea, and didn't even try to live in the moment, since he preferred the moment they'd get back to their room.  
  
Ian could see just what Quinn really wanted and knew a little bit of distraction was in order, at least for now. He surged up and splashed away in an enhanced version of the Australian crawl. "Just try and catch me!" he called.  
  
Quinn could not let Ian's challenge go unanswered. He streaked off after him in a blur of endless arms and legs.  
  
Luckily, they were farther from shore than the other swimmers, so they could race full tilt across the cove. Ian's head start made it impossible for Quinn to overtake him, since he was such a strong swimmer.  
  
Ian crowed when he reached the buoy on the other side of the bay. "I've still got it!" he whooped in exhilaration.  
  
When Quinn caught up a few strokes later, he puffed, "No doubt of that, lad." He breathed in the fresh bay air. "How 'bout sharing some with me?"  
  
Ian laughed, after making sure Quinn had gotten his wind back. "More than enough to go around."  
  
They headed back to the shore, ravenous by now. After stopping by their room to shower and change into Luke tees and shorts, they strolled to the restaurant. As expected, Bant and Ethan were nowhere to be seen, having bigger fish to fry on their honeymoon. Sitting on the terrace overlooking the cove, they took their time enjoying turkey club sandwiches with Guinness Stout. The sun was setting, its orange flame cooled by the waters of Moncale Bay. Little boats, tethered to their moorings, bobbed in the swells, their multi-colored sails dancing in the waves.  
  
Quinn smiled at Ian as he sipped his stout. "I'll never forget this past week, not just thanks to the wedding, but because Prop 8 was ruled unconstitutional in California."  
  
"Judge Walker's made marriage discrimination against the law there," Ian marveled.  
  
Crinkling blue eyes shone at him. "Imagine that! Marriage equality in California again, at least after the stay is lifted." A twilight breeze ruffled through chestnut hair.  
  
"And the polls say support for it is growing by the minute." Ian was on top of the news, as always.  
  
Quinn nodded. "This is the first time I've dared hope for success at the Supreme Court. Olson is a master of well-reasoned arguments."  
  
"Sounds like someone else I know." Ian chuckled.  
  
"Oh, laddie!" Though it was hard to tell because of his tan, it certainly looked like Ian had coaxed a rare blush from Quinn.  
  
Ian grinned, patting Quinn's hand in delight. "I'm hoping for a Supreme Court win, too."  
  
"Let's drink to that!" Quinn toasted, clinking glasses with his husband.  
  
Ian took a bite of potato salad. "It was wonderful of Bant to say the ruling was a wedding gift for us all."  
  
"That really stood out for me. There's always a moment like that at a wedding." Quinn sipped his drink.  
  
"Yeah, something you remember for years." A grin lit Ian's face, glowing already in the setting sun.  
  
Quinn nodded again. "I wasn't expecting her to think about this on her big day." He swirled the ice in his water around with his straw.  
  
"I know. What a good friend!" Ian exclaimed.  
  
"It was great to see her looking so happy." Quinn looked more than happy himself, which Ian was delighted to observe.  
  
Ian beamed. "A toast to the new bride and groom!"  
  
They raised their glasses again, glad to celebrate their friends' marriage, and their own.  
  
When they finished their meal, they strode to their room, anticipation thrumming through them, more potent than the Guinness. Quinn locked the door with a satisfying thunk, turning to give Ian a smoldering look, eager to deepen the eroticism of their swim in the cove.  
  
"Tempted by my backstroke?" Ian asked playfully.  
  
"You're temptation itself, laddie mine." Quinn gathered him in for a lingering kiss.  
  
"Mmmm," Ian said dreamily, a well-kissed glaze in his eyes. "You're the only one I want to tempt."  
  
"That's a good thing for me," Quinn said, then nibbled on Ian's luscious upper lip.  
  
Ian licked Quinn's neck, just above the collar of his t-shirt, feeling the reverberations of the growl which resonated deeper within Ian than the most finely crafted sentence.  
  
Closing his eyes in pleasure, Quinn enjoyed the rough lapping of Ian's tongue even more than the lapping of the waves earlier. He relaxed into his lad's arms, letting Ian taste him at will.  
  
How exhilarating to get Quinn into this state -- the pure bliss of being loved.  
  
Ian pulled Quinn's shirt off, then his own, and pressed into his husband's sweaty chest. The air conditioner might as well have been broken whenever they got going.  
  
They kissed and kissed as the night grew cooler around them, finally pausing to take off underwear and shorts which had become too tight to hold them. Guinness was the least intoxicating thing about Quinn's kisses, a pure bliss-out for Ian, as well. Quinn pulled the covers down in one wide sweep, then lifted his lovestruck lad off his feet to drop him surprisingly gently upon the sheet.  
  
Quinn gazed at Ian as intensely as if each look was an actual caress. Sun-lightened hair messy beyond a comb's ability to tame; eyes more blue-green than ever, as if immersion in the ocean had heightened their cool water colors; wide nose flaring as it took in more air, thanks to his excitement; sweet mouth grinning in undeclinable invitation; that incredible dimple, which did Ian's teasing for him.  
  
But it wasn't enough just to look at his laddie -- Quinn had to touch, taste, and tease him. He knelt between Ian's legs and ran his rough hands along tender inner thighs, Ian's skin soft over hard muscle. Feeling the shiver beneath his fingers, he gave a predatory smile and proceeded to enhance it.  
  
Ian lay back on the bed, dazed by the tender onslaught. Quinn's calluses caught on his hairs and pulled them as his hands slid over trembling legs, tremors his big paws were causing.  
  
Two juicy testicles were ripe for the petting, and pet them Quinn did. He cupped their soft weight in his palms, savoring their velvety heaviness. Ian was moaning for him now, a low sound that permeated his very bones.  
  
Ah, the feel of those strong hands on him. Ian felt like he was floating, just as he had in Moncale Bay, but this time waves of desire lifted him, hotter and more sensual than the lulling waters of the cove. He thrust up urgently, hoping that Quinn would turn his attention to his straining penis, rewarding him for his patience throughout Quinn's teasing.  
  
That luscious cock was indeed a temptation; though he could play with Ian all day, it was far more important to satisfy him. Looking into sea-bright eyes, he transferred his left hand to where Ian was urging him. A little cry told Quinn that this was the right move. Quinn brought his other hand to his mouth, licking the fingers and palm thoroughly, smiling when he drew a gasp from his husband.  
  
Thick, wet fingers ran along Ian's length again and again, unerringly finding his hot spots. Saliva and pre-come blended to create the perfect lube, made just for Ian. His focus narrowed to Quinn's touch alone.  
  
"Just like this, laddie?" Quinn swirled his thumb around the tip to get Ian's attention.  
  
"Wanna feel all of you," Ian implored.  
  
With one last ruffle to the curls at the base, Quinn covered his husband in body warmth, infinitely better than the finest linen. His own patient cock needed this, craving Ian's exquisite flesh pushing up into him, the shaft still hot from his hand.  
  
When Quinn pressed into him, Ian's arousal skyrocketed. He'd thought he was close before, but now one hot move from Quinn could be all it took to set him off. He tried to calm down, but Quinn's eyes, wild with excitement, just enflamed him further.  
  
And Quinn was wild, what with his desperate lad writhing under him, just begging him to thrust. He did just that, driving into him with sheer abandon. His powerful jabs sent shudders through both of them as they grunted out their pleasure.  
  
Ian tried to buck under his Wookiee of a husband, but to no avail. He was well and truly pinned. Somehow, that made him burn all the hotter. And Quinn knew it.  
  
Quinn needed to kiss his lad *now*, but Ian was a wriggling handful in perpetual motion. "Laddie!" he growled, to focus Ian's attention, and finally was able to capture his mouth and plunder it. He howled out his orgasm, muffled by Ian's tongue, spilling onto his husband's groin and thighs.  
  
Marinating in the rivulets of Quinn's come, Ian jerked in his husband's arms as he came himself, floating this time on an orgasmic high.  
  
They relaxed into each other as their breathing slowed, content to stay right where they were as they lived in this sublime moment together.  
  
"Now this is a honeymoon!" The steamy throatiness of Ian's voice said it all.


End file.
